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Some people are destined for great romances. They search for their one and only and when they find them, they fall madly in love in a whirlwind of chocolates and roses and sappy slow songs. They don’t just have sex, they never fuck; they make love. They swallow each other’s being, drawing in the essence of the perfect love of their life. Two become one.

Image courtesy of philippe leroyer via Flickr.com

​Yea, this ain’t one of those fairy tale stories. While there is a happy twosome, there is no dancing in the rain or gentle kisses by candle light. There is though, a lot of swallowing…

Six is in a semi-normal relationship and even on the worst days of it is rather happy. Until recently. See, he and Nine have been spending less time together, due to this or that and other such things that’s really no one’s business. Sorry, but thems the breaks. Use your imagination is you want any more details. Anyway, with Six feeling less-than-desired due to the separation, his dirty little mind has wandered from one end of the naughty spectrum to the other, but kept himself and his penis in check. And that was no small victory.

Anarchy is an old friend of Six who has recently come back into his life. Anarchy is single and happy. He has no need for the complications of a relationship and as a non-casual sex enjoying type of guy, it’s been a while since some little cutie took a protein injection. For the past few months, Anarchy has chosen celibacy and directed that sexual energy towards other more family-friendly things.

Three guesses what happens next. And the first two don’t count.

The two good friends decided to hang out one night smoking, drinking and watching borderline hentai on Netflix. As usual, Six teased Anarchy, “accusing” him of liking dick. Anarchy, as usual, denied each and every allegation. Just the usual bullshit these two pull to pass the short moments between on of them ranting on about whatever pops into their mind. Good things, bad things. The boys' version of girlfriends.

Then, after years of double entendre fueled friendship, came the bet. Well, not so much a bet. No one actually won anything. Unless you count Six’s inflated ego and Anarchy’s “release.”

Six prides himself on the fact that anyone who RSVPs to his party always comes. He has no doubt that he can bring anyone to happy-land. It’s not conceit; he has plenty of bright smiling faces in his bedroom gymnastic past to prove it. Anarchy, the perpetual straight boy, refused to believe that a perpetual straight boy would and, more importantly, could get it up and get it out when the lips attached to the human blow-up doll has their own cock a few feet below. Six could not, would not let this blow (pardon) to his sexual ego just slide by. So of course, he had to prove his friend wrong.

Image courtesy of henrycate75 via Flickr.com

​It started out like any good porn – kissing like drunk French whores. Anarchy responded to each and every touch, rub, lick and grope Six offered. And that was before the pants even unzipped. Yea, the perpetual straight boy was wooden. And willing. And before Six could purse his lips, Anarchy threw him to the bed and grabbed his toy surprise. From hand job to blow job in less than five minutes.

It had become more than settling a bet. The straight boy swallowed cock. Six was surprised, though not in a bad way. See, he had always thought Anarchy was cute. So when he decided to deep throat for the first time ever, he was more than willing to oblige. After all, he was horny. And Nine was off doing whatever is was Nine did. What he didn’t know…

Soon enough, Six flipped Anarchy onto his back and proved to him, in about two minutes, that he could in fact make him shoot a load. He won. He was happy. And based on Anarchy’s face, so was he.

In the minutes after, Anarchy rattled on about why he had done the dirty deed he had did. Now, for Six, it was a fun time. Something to take the edge off of his too-long ignored libido. Anarchy, though, had a revolving door of changing reasons. First, it was just about the bet. He had to give Six the opportunity to back up his claims. Then it was that Six was in a relationship so the chance to have someone besides himself stroke his shit was a welcomed relief. Then he went on a strange rant about not needing to conform to society’s norms. Six just smiled at all of this. The perpetual straight boy was trying to convince himself that it did not mean he is gay nor did it matter if he was not actually straight.

Six just offered to do it again. Anarchy did not say no. In fact, when Anarchy said not to let him do that again when talking about the night prior, he was not talking about the slap and tickle.

It may be wrong what Six did that night (and the fact that he’s more than willing to do it again may make it even worse) but he does not regret it. Anarchy enjoyed himself as well, though he has not said if he will act again, though the impression has been given.

And what about Nine, you ask? Well, Six decided not to tell him. And it’s not like Anarchy will offer up the information; he’s not even telling his friends (besides me, of course). Not because of shame, though. It’s more about the teasing. His friends are not necessarily mean-spirited; they’re just a type of asshole. Homo-repressed guys are so pathetic; always afraid of liking what they mock.

So we may have witnessed the beginning of a nice tawdry affair. Or there may never be a sequel made. There’s only one thing for certain: Anarchy will never question Six’s talents again. And that’s enough for Six.